BatmanPunisher: Vengeance
by Doctor Vile
Summary: Frank Castle heads to Gotham City, looking to deal out some punishment on Bruce Wayne. The only fanfic around where the review page is more interesting than the story!
1. Chapter 1

"What do you want?"  
  
The man's voice was filled with fear, and Castle could smell it on him. Although it was too dark for the man to see, he knew that he was sweating all over his body. He had only just awoken, and as a result his voice was crackly and horse. He could not move, even his head was in some way attached to the chair on which he sat.  
  
"What do you want?"  
  
He repeated his question, more assertively this time.  
  
"I want information, punk."  
  
The answer was quick and hard, slamming the fear back into the man's body. The sweat immediately started to pour again.  
  
"I don't know anything. Just let me go. I haven't seen your face. Please."  
  
"Not gonna happen. It's not a good idea to lie to someone with this kinda gun pointed straight at your forehead."  
  
"You're bluffing," the man started, "it's too dark in here for you to see." He didn't really believe that his captor hadn't thought of this, but was clinging to the hope that he didn't have night vision goggles.  
  
"Yeah right." Castle answered, almost laughing. "Listen up punk, I'll make it simple for ya. Either you're gonna tell me who set you up with that weaponry, or I'm gonna give you a third nostril."  
  
"Not much of a choice." The prisoner was still trying to sound defiant, but his sentence trailed off into a murmur.  
  
"Damn. Ya noticed."  
  
There was a small silence while the man considered his position. He hadn't been sworn to silence, but he knew the basis that major suppliers worked on. He was smart enough to realise that it was more than his life's worth to leak information.  
  
"Look," he finally stuttered, "no-body told me anythin'. All I know is what I over heard from Tank. I don't know nothin'. Go ask someone else!"  
  
"I did. They kept it closed. That's why they're not around anymore. I need a name. You really wanna join them?"  
  
It had set in. There was no bargaining with his jailer. He'd aced the gang and was down to his final link.  
  
"Waitaminute!" The crook began, "if I'm the only one left then you need m."  
  
"TALK!" He was swiftly interrupted. Unknown to him, the scope aimed at his head did not move a millimetre as his interrogator bellowed. "A name!"  
  
He managed to spit three words before passing out entirely: "Wayne! Wayne Enterprises." 


	2. Chapter 2

The City was darker than usual. No stars, no moon. Miles above the Gotham Ritz, a lone figure clung to the underneath of a gargoyle with a vice-like gloved hand. Either side of him, dark fabric flew out like waiting wings casting a dark shadow across the huge building on which he now grasped.  
  
Any below who looked up would fail to see The Batman, his life depending upon his hand's grip upon the underside of the grimacing bust. His cowled head moved slowly from left to right, scoring the city as a bird scouts for its prey. Finding none, his powerful leg muscles tensed before extending hard, firing his entire body from the buildings side like a bullet from a gun. His cape flew out behind him, now held by both of his wiry arms. Bringing his arms forward, the cape extended, more than ever resembling dark and menacing wings. It became a drag on his momentum, a hindrance on gravity. As he darted down, he let out behind himself an almost invisible strand of rope. The fibre wrapped tight around another bust, pulling taunt and allowing the Batman to swing his figure round, changing direction in mid-air away from the famous club. Releasing the rope, he snatched with lightning speed a grapnel from his versatile belt and fired it towards another building. His aim was true, allowing the clawed end to find a grip on the skyscraper. He again swung, retracted his grapnel and glided down with his cape into an alley a few streets away from The Ritz.  
  
Landing gracefully, Batman stood up to his full height and seeing for the first time a nearby rolls. He stepped up to the car, opened the passenger door and stepped in.  
  
"Good night, Master Bruce?" The driver enquired.  
  
"Difficult, Alfred." The Batman answered. "But about to get more so."  
  
"Indeed. I had hoped that you would put aside this Gala event to concentrate on acquiring a modicum of rest, certainly something that has evaded you recently." The engine started smoothly, the noise never rising above a soft purr. "Not that I mind chauffeuring. This is no doubt one of the finest back alley's in all of Gotham."  
  
"This event is important from the point of view of Wayne Enterprises. The Metropolis Branch's merger with Lexcorp was a large source of income for the company. It is up to Bruce Wayne to make appearances."  
  
"Even if you had little control over the merger yourself."  
  
There came no answer to this. Batman was in the process of changing into a smart tuxedo suit that had been hanging on the far side of the car. The Rolls tinted windows allowed no visual intrusions.  
  
The car pulled around the corner to the Ritz Club. At the entrance large bouncers were greeting guests and stockholders. Alfred drove the car right up to the main steps. The door into which Batman had entered before was opened, and out stepped Bruce Wayne. Flash bulbs went off all around the entrance and questions were being shot at him by the press. Two massive bouncers escorted Mr Wayne through the doors of the prestigious event before closing them on the prying eyes of the paparazzi cameras.  
  
"Bruce! How are you?" Wayne was being addressed by Lucius Fox, the company's general manager. "Still the old night owl? Come and have a drink."  
  
Lucius invited Bruce over to a group of five people. Three were men wearing black tuxedos, and the other two were women, one in a red dress and the other in a shorter green one. They were all drinking white wine except for one.  
  
"Bruce, this is Mr John Brennan, the vice-president of our Metropolis branch, with his lovely wife Linda. Mr and Mrs Brennan, Bruce Wayne." Bruce shook hands with both Brennan, a slightly overweight individual of average height, and then his short and similarly plump wife in the red dress.  
  
"He organised the merger with Lexcorp Arms Division. This is Mr Bill Dee from Lexcorp, with whom the merger was finalised. This is his wife to be, Miss Jane Lorents." Dee was tall and handsome, with an almost shaved head. His fiancée Lorents was also tall and very beautiful, with raven-black hair. There was an exotic quality about her that was familiar to Wayne, although at the time he could not place why.  
  
"And finally," Luscious spoke up when the introductions had finished, "This is Mr Castiglione from New York. He is writing a book on arms commerce." Bruce shook Castiglione's hand. As every businessman knows, the best way to begin an acquaintance is by a very strong handshake, but his grip was among the firmest that Wayne had ever encountered. Castiglione was very well built; he had a very thin moustache and a short ponytail tied at the back. His muscles could be seen bulging parts of his tuxedo. He was about the same height as Wayne with an incredibly similar build. As Wayne gripped his hand, Castiglione neither smiled nor spoke, but simply stared into his eyes.  
  
"Are you a weapon expert yourself, Mr Castiglione?" Wayne enquired, "or a commerce expert?"  
  
"Weapons, Mr Wayne," came the answer, "Like the ones being manufactured between Lexcorp and Wayne Enterprises Metropolis branch."  
  
"I'm not fully informed on the system," Lucius began, "but I believe the US Army can benefit directly from this deal."  
  
"Indeed." It was Brennan who had spoke. "That is the sole reason why I proposed the deal with Mr Dee here."  
  
Dee spoke up, "With the enemies building in the east, the military can use all the help it can get. We are charging a very small percentage to the government in turn to developing these weapons."  
  
"Have you been in the army yourself, Mr Castiglione?" Mrs Brennan enquired. Castiglione turned his head towards her slowly and almost menacingly.  
  
"I served in 'Nam." His demeanour suddenly lightened as he said it. "I presume safety measures have been installed in city branches? I'd hate to think that those weapons could spill onto the streets of New York."  
  
"Of course," said Dee, "the only way goods could leak is if Mr Wayne authorised it himself! We have introduced very tight security."  
  
"Glad to hear it." Castiglione smiled for the first time, bringing the corners of his thin moustache up. "Gentlemen, ladies, I'm afraid I must leave you. I have an appointment to keep. Good evening." He left without shaking hands. 


	3. Chapter 3

Frank Castle stepped out of the Gotham Ritz Club into the cold night. The press had all but left, and the bouncer's stood idle. Castle walked a couple of blocks through the chill wind into a deserted street, before pulling something out of his tuxedo pockets. It was a car key attached to a key ring. He pressed the red button on the key ring and it responded with a click and a small beeping noise. Soon, a large van could be seen driving up the main street. It moved quietly but with purpose towards Castle. As it pulled up alongside him, it slowed to a halt. He approached it, opening the back and stepping inside.  
  
Once inside the Battle Van, Castle changed into his action gear. After peeling his fake moustache from his upper lip, Castle removed his tux to reveal a huge skull on a blue top beneath. He stocked up on his usual weaponry from the Battle Van's racks, attaching it to his belt and to a strap around his massive chest. He pulled on his usual white gloves and black boots and undid the ponytail at the back of his head, un-slicking his hair.  
  
The transformation was complete. Where Frank Castle, born Franklyn Castiglione, had stood now was The Punisher.  
  
The Punisher stood still for a moment before speaking a verbal command seemingly to an unseen person. "Battle Van." A quiet humming began, like a computer booting up. "Mission log for Castle, Frank."  
  
"Castle, Frank, also called The Punisher," the Van's computer replied in The Punisher's own voice. It was reciting a recording. "Mission log," it continued, "found lead on gang's supplier. Status of gang: eliminated. Followed lead to Gotham City. Suspected targets: Dee, Bill; Brennan, Johnathan Andrew; Fox, Lucius. Objective: attend Wayne Gala and acquire information on security measures for weapons manufacturing branches in New York, Metropolis, Gotham City, Washington D.C." There was a pause. "Mission status?" the computer enquired.  
  
"Mission completed." The Punisher spoke. The Battle Van echoed him. "New objective: assassination."  
  
"Assassination," the Van spoke back.  
  
"Target," The Punisher spoke again. "Bruce Wayne."  
  
The computer whirred, before repeating The Punisher's words.  
  
"Target tagged. Access tracking signal for electronic tag 144657."  
  
"Accessing," the computer crackled again. The Punisher left the van from the back, walked around the side on the pavement and entered the van by the driver's door. Sitting at the driver's seat, The Punisher could see the computer's screen. Soon a map materialised on the monitor. A blue dot showed up immediately, a red dot a few seconds after. The red dot was labelled 144657. "Target locked."  
  
"Manual control," The Punisher spoke again. The engine once again growled into life as Castle took the wheel. "Mission in progress." 


End file.
